Sinner is the Definition
by ArthurIsAwesome
Summary: "You don't love me." Maple Tea, short drabble, uses of curse words and passive mentioning of sex. If you think I ought to rate it higher I will but it's really not that bad, I assure you.


**Author's Note: This is really short. Really, really short. Just a little drabble I did a while back when I was totally obsessed with Maple Tea. I still am, really, I find it fascinating. I also wrote sort of on a topic that a great deal of the Maple Tea fandom revolves around: Arthur replacing Alfred with Matthew. I honestly hate that, but it's sort of here, nonetheless. Only kind of backwards? I don't know. I'm not going to continue this so pretty please don't ask, just review if you think I should work on a longer UkCan fic. I need a plot though, a prompt... suggestions?**

"You don't love me."

The words are hard and hyperborean, slicing through the air and landing in the middle of Matthew's sweater-covered chest. Nonetheless, the wavy-haired blond had never felt more hot – with embarrassment, at least. The man who said the words, who was slightly shorter than Matthew but far older, stood rigid and unwavering across the room from him, his eyebrows appearing to weigh his head down, as it was tilted towards the ground. There is no room to move, Matthew his stuck in between months of lies, accusations, and cheating.

"Why would you assume such a thing?" he asked quietly, because he knows Arthur can't resist him when he's speaking softly and timidly and trying his hardest to be cute. Despite all of that, Arthur has his formerly-callow eyes narrowed into shallow, thin slits.

Taking a firm step in the younger nation's direction, the Brit faked a smile and countered frostily,"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps it's because that every night when I come home, you insist you're tired-"

"Because I am! I've been very busy lately!"

"-and I _know _that the reason you're tired is because while I'm gone, you're busying pumping everything you've got into your _brother_!"

Matthew's eyes widen, and there is an uncomfortable silence sitting pleasantly in the room, sipping coffee and smirking at the Canadian with amusement and pity. The silence is a beautiful American man, his golden hair shining from the dim crackling glow of the fire across the room. Matthew's blush grew darker, and he sought words that would make everything better.

Of course I don't do that, Arthur, I only love you.

But Alfred is so annoying. He belittles me. Why would I do that with him?

Don't you know anything, you dumbass? I only wanted _you_.

Instead, he chooses "How did you know?"

There is a shattering look in Arthur's eyes, his heart clenching painfully in his chest, his lungs slowing, he can't breathe, _he can't breathe_-

"I only assumed you were cheating on me in the beginning, I just didn't know who with. So, I asked Francis to do some detective work for me. Remember the day the meeting was held in Saint Malo? He followed you after the meeting, he overheard you speaking on your mobile to Alfred, saying how you couldn't _wait _to get home and let him pleasure you-"

He broke off, his voice cracking in his throat and dying before more words could leave his mouth. Swallowing visibly, Arthur curled his hands into fists at his waist and took a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth. Matthew was furious, but he knew better than to interrupt.

"So remember the next meeting, held in New York? How you told me you were just going to fly to your house in Vancouver instead of return with me to London? Well, I assumed it to be true, and since my flight wasn't leaving until the morning, I thought I'd just go to Alfred's house and sleep on his couch for the night rather than booking an expensive hotel room. Only I couldn't. Do you know why?"

Floundering for an alibi, for a way out of the house, for a way to get Arthur to stop attacking him verbally with his proof of the younger's wrongdoing, Matthew opened his mouth to speak – to _beg –_ but Arthur didn't let him. Instead, the Brit answered his own question.

"Because _you _were already there, with his dick shoved up your ARSE, and you _moaning _his name like the Goddamn whore that you ARE!"

Arthur was angry, he was _so _angry. His shoulders shook before he finally allowed himself to cry, turning away from Matthew so he couldn't see. The tears were falling expeditiously from his eyes, and he let small whimpers escape from his lips as his world crashed around him.

Tears swelling in his own eyes, Matthew closed them and sighed softly. God, what could he say?

"You know what, Arthur? I did sleep with Alfred. I've been doing it since before we even got together, and I'll be doing it long after you're gone. I can't help it, I love him, but to him I'm just another fuck buddy. He'll never see me as anything more, but I'm too weak to let him go. I thought it was the same for you... I thought that was how we could bond... I thought..."

A sigh.

"I thought you were doing it, too."

The words stunned Arthur into silence, and Matthew took long, thudding steps forward. Pushing Arthur gently out of the way, he opened the door and stepped through the threshold, adding a soft,"I think we ought to see other people. I've obviously... There's no helping it. _Au revoir,_" over his shoulder.

Shutting with a quiet _click, _Arthur sobbed again, his voice shouting jumbled words of hatred and confusion, and Matthew could hear him as he made his way down to the end of the driveway. Running his fingers through his hair, he pulled his lips into a tight line as he pulled out his phone to call Alfred and mumbled to himself,"Fuck."

He knows it's his fault, and really, he doesn't feel that awful about losing Arthur. "A sinner" is the definition of a lover, after all.


End file.
